


all my firsts with you

by fkaps2point0



Series: i don’t know how to be happy, but if i'm with you i think it’s possible [5]
Category: Start-Up (Korea TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Valentine's Day, White Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:07:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29692014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fkaps2point0/pseuds/fkaps2point0
Summary: pt 1 - Dalmi mulls over what to get Jipyeong for their first Valentine’s Day together.pt 2 - Jipyeong returns the favour on White Day.or: Dalmi, Jipyeong, holidays, and numerous firsts.
Relationships: Han Ji Pyeong/Seo Dal Mi
Series: i don’t know how to be happy, but if i'm with you i think it’s possible [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009962
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	all my firsts with you

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on twitter!!  
> [@fkapsisfake](https://mobile.twitter.com/fkapsisfake)  
> this has been in my drafts forever. it was meant for valentines day but i just had the chance to polish it up before posting. my last au - let’s just say writers block has me by the throat atm. i’m working on it lol
> 
> pt 2 for white day in JP pov coming soon :) i’m just going to stop claiming im done with these two and keep writing until i get sick of it
> 
> timeline for this one: if you’ve read part 3 of this series, i’m going to say this is their first valentines day after they start dating in that au, which takes place in the series during the time skip

** Jipyeong **

you’ll be at the restaurant on time tonight

right  
17:45

How many times do I have to say yes for you to believe me?  
17:55

your actions are louder than your words  
unfortunately, the historical data speaks for itself  
17:57

Twice!  
I was late TWICE  
17:58

And you were literally there with me for one of them   
17:59

technicalities  
17:59

On my way to the elevator.  
I’ll be there in 15 minutes - as promised.  
18:15

if you make us lose our reservation again, i’m going to make sure halmeoni doesn’t let you inside next time you’re over  
18:20

10 minutes  
18:22

Maybe 20  
18:30

* * *

Dalmi turned off her cellphone and quickly scanned the spread atop Jipyeong’s too large for its own good dining table, taking stock and ensuring that no elements of her surprise dinner had been forgotten. 

With Seoul traffic being the way it was Friday evenings during rush hour, and Jipyeong being who he was, impeccable at just about everything besides gauging an accurate timeline, she knew his estimated twenty minute arrival target would likely turn to forty-five, giving her just enough of a margin for finishing touches and a change of clothing. 

Gift giving was not a practice Dalmi gave a lot of thought to. In fact, never had she found herself at a loss when it came to selecting a present for a loved one whose birthday, anniversary or the odd, upcoming graduation, was fast approaching. 

Her grandmother, who had no trouble with vocalizing her needs, was easy. Dalmi mentally took note of the items that the older woman ranted over mindlessly- a new sweater after her favourite one ripped, or a pristine set of plates when three out of the four within her, at the time, disparaged collection laid in their kitchen cupboard chipped in various locations only she noticed or cared about- and subsequently bought them as the need arose, or a special occasion eventually rolled around. 

Injae, although decidedly less candid then their grandmother was, had always been easy to gauge from Dalmi’s perspective. When her sister’s gaze lingered on a certain perfume or pair of earrings during one of their window shopping excursions, Dalmi would secretly return to the store alone within the next few days and purchase the object Injae had previously been eyeing. 

Family, friends, coworkers. Dalmi’s attentiveness to those in her surroundings and close circle came in handy, especially during moments like gift buying that others found irritating or time consuming. 

So, here’s the issue.

What do you get a person who has the monetary means to buy whatever they wanted without checking price tags and waiting for sales? Someone who didn’t hesitate to emulate the same behaviour when it came to his loved ones - Dalmi, her grandmother, and the rest of their family by extension.

They’d been dating for a few months now. Jipyeong, the boy turned man who she unknowingly pined after for fifteen years, appeared determined to make up for lost time and then some if his efforts were anything to go by. In the form of desserts when he dropped by for weekly dinners at her house, flowers or small boxes of chocolates handed to her nonchalantly prior to outings when their schedules allowed it. Destinations ranging from theaters and newfound restaurants, or dates at Jipyeong’s apartment, location dependent on their level of exhaustion following a consecutive chain of days where most of their awake hours were spent at their respective offices.

When Saha offhandedly mentioned Valentine’s Day plans with, in her coworker turned friend’s own words, her newest flavour of the month, Dalmi was left, for what felt like the first time, dumbfounded in the face of indecision. At a sheer loss as to what tangible thing she could possibly purchase someone who had managed to become so important to her in what relatively had not been a long time. The Dosan of her beloved letters was undoubtedly Jipyeong - as she occasionally reassured him of when she felt his confidence in himself, in _them_ , dwindling - but admittedly, it took her awhile to reconcile the imaginary version she’d visualized for so long to the man she said yes to once before never looking back. 

And, in some ways, she feels like she’s fallen twice for the same person.

While the first time instilled her with confidence she desperately needed at the time, the second was scary. Fear inducing, yet thrilling in all the right ways.

She couldn’t mess this up,

Dalmi recalled a memory that felt like ages ago, when the newly formed Samsan Tech gathered around in a circle, smack dab in the middle of Jipyeong’s apartment, to fulfill the object of her affections’ childhood dream, even if she had mistakenly directed those affections towards the wrong individual at the time. A seemingly simple wish, to spend Chuseok, a holiday she’d taken for granted until her own family dissolved into a two-person unit, with family and good food, was one Jipyeong later told her was a gift he valued more than anything he’d ever received in the past.

And, suddenly, it clicked. 

Somewhere in the middle of inane conversation and coffee with Saha, Dalmi slowly started to piece together a picture of what their first Valentine’s Day would look like. 

Promising Injae that she’d make up for lost time by working Sunday that week, Dalmi had left her office early today to prepare. Armed with the passcode to get into Jipyeong’s apartment, one he’d readily offerred at a surprisingly early stage of their relationship, she’d taken inventory of his fridge and pantry contents the last time she was over and picked up the remaining ingredients necessary to conjure up a simple, yet delicious dinner, menu stacked with dishes she knew Jipyeong was especially fond of. 

With dessert - a chocolate heart shaped cake covered in festive bright pink and red frosting- chilling in the fridge, candles lit and enveloping the apartment in a subtly sweet, warm afterglow of vanilla, she glanced at the time on her phone. Twenty minutes had gone by, and as Dalmi previously predicted, no indication of Jipyeong’s arrival had made itself apparent.

She headed over to Jipyeong’s bedroom, where she’d left hanging on the door inside the ensuite bathroom a garment bag and a hairbrush strewn somewhere on the counter by the sink.

The dress was one she initially bought on impulse for an upcoming networking gala, black, sleek, and just provocative enough for her to deem it unsuitable for a professional event. While attempting to zip up the zipper sealing the back of her dress, Dalmi is startled out of concentration when the distinct sound of the passcode to the apartment being entered went off and the front door subsequently unlocked.

Abandoning the zipper approximately halfway undone, she hurriedly scrambled out of his bedroom, reaching the front door just in time to catch Jipyeong closing it behind him.

She wondered if she should let him come to the realization that he wasn’t alone on his own terms. If she should make herself scarce, allow him to conclude himself that there was currently an additional occupant in his home after catching a glimpse of her handiwork. 

Then again,

“You’re late.” 

Dalmi couldn’t help it. She was never good at holding back when it came to what she wanted.

He would deny it later, but she swore she saw him visibly flinch before turning to face her.

“What-“

“Fifty minutes, to be precise,” she cuts him off before he can finish, secretly pleased at his astounded reaction, “Although, I’m willing to be lenient, given that we agreed to meet at the restaurant, not your place.”

Dalmi struggles to stifle a giggle as her still reeling boyfriend slowly removed his shoes at the doorway, “Am I missing something?” 

“I thought we’d do something a bit different, given the occasion,” Dalmi explained, leading the way to the living room as if it was her place and he was the one visiting, “Since we go out to eat all the time anyway, I thought it’d be nice to stay in tonight.”

She caught sight of the flowers in his hands. Bold, red tulips. Identical to the shade of lipstick smeared across her lips in a last minute decision, where she opted to choose the hue over the milder nude she’d also thrown in her purse just in case.

“Blame them for the lateness,” Jipyeong gestured accusatorially with a tilt of his head towards the bouquet, jokingly adding, “The line at the florist was crazy. You would think there was a special occasion going on today or something.”

“Excuses,” Dalmi waved at him dismissively, reaching for the flowers and placing them in a water glass for the time being, “Besides, you didn’t have to. I’m the one who’s responsible for the gift giving today.” 

Jipyeong tugs at her hand, easing one, then the other, into the firm hold of his own, backing her up until she’s against the kitchen counter, cornered. 

A strong hand trails its way up her back, the line of her spine reacting in tandem. She feels a chill run down its whole form, despite the warmth of Jipyeong’s fingertips as they slowly, downright bordering on seductively, dragged the half undone zipper long forgotten by Dalmi in the midst of her excitement up the remaining length of her dress, until it settled into place at the top. 

“I wanted to,” he replied, leaning down to place a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth, continuing on a path up her jaw, her neck, before eventually ceasing when Dalmi regretfully sighed, nestling her hands in his hair and tilting his head back. 

Not on the kitchen counter she just spent a good part of the afternoon slaving over.

Grinning at her obvious overwhelmed state, he continued his previous train of thought, “Besides,” close enough that she can see the dimples crafted in little half moons at the corners of his mouth crease as he teased, “I was going to let you pick up the tab tonight anyway.”

Dalmi laughed, playfully knocking her forehead against his, “And I would’ve done it too, you know.”

“How about you answer the door when the take out gets delivered this time? That’s all I ask.”

“You’ll have to save that request for another day,” she retorted, supplementing with a nod towards the dining area when his expression turned confused, “Already taken care of. Hurry up and change, you would have technically made it just in time for the reservation. And, I’m starving.”

When Jipyeong comes back, thoughtfully choosing an outfit on par with Dalmi’s rather than the loungewear she knew he was itching to slip into, she has fixed two plates and arranged cutlery such that they’re both seated adjacent to one another.

“I’ve never had someone do something like this for me before,” Jipyeong admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat down at the table, “It’s kind of nice.”

“Just kind of?” Dalmi prodded teasingly, taking her seat as well, “And you’re seriously telling me the great Han Jipyeong has never had one of his countless admirers court him over a Valentine’s dinner before?”

“I meant meals in general,” Jipyeong shrugged as he filled up a glass of water, first for her, then, for himself, “But that too, I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I ate with the other kids at the orphanage, and during university I’d grab dinner with my dormmates once in awhile...” The sentence wandered off as he swirled a forkful of pasta absentmindedly on his plate, “But dinner one-on-one with someone I actually cared about? Besides Halmeoni, I’d have to say this is a first.” 

A little crack resulting from his muted acceptance chipped away a fragment of her heart at the pitiful tone of his usually confident voice. Jipyeong infrequently alluded to his childhood and upbringing in the past, never too many details. Generally a halfhearted remark, completely unrelated to lack of substantial companionship in his youth, that only happened to mention the aforementioned in a passive manner, rather than being featured as a main character within his recount. 

She hates it. Watching him in pain felt like an undeserved, cruel punishment after all he’d gone through to get to where he was today. To eventually become who he was now, in spite of all the circumstances discouraging it.

“For me too,” she blurts out suddenly, hoping her reassurance would melt away his borderline desolate expression, “I mean, I’ve gone out on dates, obviously,” _been in a relationship too,_ she thinks to herself silently, “Not like this though.”

Intimate. Private. Like his apartment was a bubble floating across a boundless sky where people and places outside of their limited space ceased to exist. 

Dalmi is rewarded with a soft smile, as if he senses her attempts at soothing him and appreciates her trying. There’s a residual sadness in his gaze that persists, one she swears he’ll be rid of by the end of tonight if she had anything to do with it. 

Conversation flows easily from that point onward. They fill each other in on work, Dalmi’s pitch to an potential investor that she’s been preparing ages for, a new round of incoming Sandbox hopefuls Jipyeong would be mentoring in the weeks to follow. Dalmi updates him on Halmeoni’s latest doctor’s appointment - doing good, not great, but definitely not worse. 

“Mm, stay still,” Dalmi paused in the middle of her story about how Saha managed to get her Valentine’s date to buy _her_ a present, reaching out to wipe the corner of his mouth with a swipe of her thumb, grinning when she succeeded, “Just a little something - you’re good now.”

There’s a warmth radiating off Jipyeong as she pulls her hand back, only for it to be grasped and interlocked between his own, placed gently on the table surface between them.

“I love you.”

It’s not the first time he’s said it.

And, it won’t be the first time she’s unable to reciprocate with the words she knows he wants to hear, words she painfully wants to voice herself. 

Because, she does love him.

Loving Han Ji-pyeong wasn’t exactly difficult, especially when Dalmi has loved him for twenty some years, regardless of his arguments insisting otherwise. All the versions - teenage Jipyeong burdened by his past who used another name as a guise, venture capitalist Jipyeong who was ruthless one moment and nurturing mentor the next. Jipyeong, her closest friend during late night dinners after work and someone who visited her house to see her grandmother even when she wasn’t present.

And, the most recent, a new addition and probably her favourite, her boyfriend. The version of Jipyeong who guided her gently through crowded streets with a hand at the small of her back, kissed her with a fierceness she’d previously only seen him exhibiting in moments of fleeting frustration.

She stood up, walking over to his side of the table. Dinner left to its own devices (she was almost done anyway), Dalmi occupied the vacant space between his legs, eye level with the top of his head. Tipping his face upwards, both of her hands gently cradling his face, she placed a sweet, close mouthed kiss to his lips, hoping that it conveyes everything she felt with her whole being, but was unable to communicate aloud.

_I’m here. I’m not going anywhere._

Dalmi’s normally calm, collected, and impossibly straight-laced boyfriend’s Achilles heel happened to be her. Dalmi, and apparently, judging by the effortless way he draws her swiftly into his lap, her lips too.

One kiss turned to two. Then, three. 

Four unbuttoned dress shirt buttons and one unkempt dress pushed downwards, leaving Dalmi’s bra clad top half of her body exposed, later, numbers no longer held any meaning. A foregone concept when competing against the man currently kissing her, inciting her to plummet down an endless cliff, no parachutes in sight. 

With Jipyeong, it was dangerously easy to lose count. To admit defeat in the face of her desires and simply give in to what she was feeling rather than trying to justify it. She forgets about the clean up tasks awaiting her in the kitchen sink when Jipyeong drags her closer, until the heat from his chest blankets her in a comfortable burning sensation. Remembers that dessert was left untouched in the fridge, until Jipyeong pries her mouth open with a gentle press of his tongue, biting her lower lip in victory when she permits.

“Don’t leave me,” he murmured faintly, desperately. So uncharacteristic of his normal demeanour, Dalmi has to strain her ears to ensure she heard him correctly. 

“Please,” came another whisper, this time between kisses peppered across the column of her neck, scattered over her collarbone, allowing her the chance to catch much needed breath, the reverberation of his voice echoing as he presses his words into her skin, reverently.

“Stay.”

She answered the only way she knew how.

Dalmi guided his face back towards hers, gentle, yet firm hands buried in his hair, starting to muss from its previously swept back style. She gazes at him, witnessing determined conviction in his eyes that she wishes with all her heart is reflected back at him from her own.

And, she kisses him. Deep, tongues, teeth and all, no holds barred.

_ I love you too. _

A ringtone blares in the background. Dalmi can’t tell if its hers or his. But, it’s enough to break them apart, thrust back into the constantly revolving world around them, even if it briefly felt like it’d come to a standstill.

Dalmi laughed at the aftermath when they startled apart, Jipyeong’s face covered in harsh, faded red smears from where her lipstick rubbed off on him. She thumbs at the marks uselessly, suspecting it does little more than transfer remnants of the pigment onto her own skin, while maintaining its presence on his.

Jipyeong chucked quietly at her unsuccessful attempt, sobering after he glanced at his wristwatch. 

“It’s getting late,” he said, words strained, almost as if it pains him to utter them, “I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Or, I could stay?”

* * *

In the morning when Dalmi awakes, it will be next to Jipyeong’s sleeping, shirtless form. She’ll unconciously bury her head further into the warmth of his bare chest, accidentally waking him up with her movements. Apologizing, through mumbled whispers, she’ll encourage him to go back to sleep. Only, instead of heeding, Jipyeong will easily flip her over so she’s practically on top of him, as if she weighed absolutely nothing. 

She’ll litter his sleepy face with kisses, a curtain of her hair concealing the pair from the nonexistent reality surrounding them. Small pecks across his forehead, one on each cheek, and a lingering, chaste kiss on his lips. He’ll prolong the moment, deepening the last, refuting Dalmi’s warnings of morning breath with repeated ‘I don’t care’s and caresses that allowed her to forget what now felt like meaningless concerns in the face of Jipyeong’s lips, his hands entangled in her hair, his heart beating wildly against and alongside her own. Jipyeong in his all his pieces and entirety, who made her throw rational thought and common sense out the window. 

“Do you have an extra toothbrush?” She’ll manage to say in the middle of respite, a brief moment where they unlatch from one another to catch their breaths. 

He’ll laugh, reaching for her again, mouth on hers before she can react, “I think,” he’ll mumble, the sound muffled against the width of her lips, “You should start keeping a bag at my place.”

The bag will feel like a precursor to something more. And whereas in the past it may have terrified her, giving a part of herself to someone who had the power to break it, with Jipyeong it’s the most natural, and inherent next step. One she was unsure of at the onset of their relationship, but secure in his arms, is confident in taking.

She can’t say the three dreaded words yet. No matter how much she feels it, no matter how much she wants to. 

But, she’ll realize there’s more than one way to say ‘I love you’. More than one way to show it. To mean it, as much as she believed and knew it to be true.

Dalmi will consider her options, and realize it’s for naught. She already decided a long time ago, when she resolved to follow her heart back to the person who laid the foundation for a story twenty years ongoing. Where it all started, and where she desperately dreams, hopes, and prays it will end. 

And, she will respond:

“I think so too.”

**Author's Note:**

> In SK i believe women give chocolates on vday and men return the favour during the following month on white day- so this was my attempt to do a spin on that. Correct me if im wrong pls
> 
> and finally: i have no problem with DS/DM endgame. and truthfully, the way the scriptwriter wrote the story (read: how she wrote the time skip with no JP/DM development) it makes sense. which is why i’ve changed up a few things in this au world so JP/DM is more plausible.


End file.
